


A Dying World

by Bill_Dups_Bob



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bill_Dups_Bob/pseuds/Bill_Dups_Bob
Summary: A darker, re-imagining of the Dragon Age world set in the Inquisition. A far larger and more dangerous rebellion, more ruthless and pervasive elements of the Chantry and a threat centuries in the making. Will diverge from cannon, include new characters and generally scale the world up to heights not limited by game engines. Enjoy!
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone!
> 
> Having only recently discovered the Dragon Age series (Shocking, I know), I found myself taken by the world Bioware had built. I was very impressed with the characters each game had developed and felt inspired to write a reinterpretation of my own.
> 
> I am a big fan of an author by the name of LogicalPremise and would recommend his stories to anyone who enjoys Mass Effect. I very much liked the darker, more fleshed out world he envisioned. While "Realistic" is probably not the exact word, the characters, their choices and the consequences seem more realistic to me.
> 
> With that premise in mind I began to draw up a story of my own in the Dragon Age world, a darker setting where I hope to flesh out the inner workings of the various characters I have come to love.
> 
> With that in mind, prepare for a larger, more threatening mage rebellion, dark designs from world leaders and a world at war while the fabric of reality threatens to collapse down around them. Timelines will differ slightly from cannon as will estimated populations and such, the scale of the Dragon Age world from what little official works I can find is woefully small.
> 
> Any feedback is greatly appreciated, writing is a hobby of mine but by no means a developed skill.

The world was dying.

At least it seemed that way to the Divine's right hand. Viridescent streaks of lightning tore across the midday sky, large stony chunks of undefined matter fell to the earth as if besieged by the heavens itself, and all because of… It.

How could she describe the sickly green tear in all creation, the Maker's heavens torn asunder. What possible justice could she do to the near overwhelming sense of dread that struck as a hammer when she turned her gaze to the growing rift in the sky, breached by magic unlike any their world had ever seen.

"Aodahn Trevelyan." Came a voice to her right, and bare steel had left its scabbard before she could recognize the voice.

"Leliana." She finally replied, a stressed sigh and the click of a sheathed sword accompanying the name. "Must you step so quietly among friends?"

"It keeps things interesting." The smirk that followed the reply was forced, but she appreciated the attempt at levity all the same.

"Our Prisoner is one Aodahn Trevelyan." Leliana continued. "First born son of Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick."

She felt her brows furrow at the name. "I recognize the name; they are distant relations of the Nevarran royal line."

"Yes, also a very pious family with a long history of service in both the Chantry and the Templar order."

Impossibly, her brows furrowed further. "The worst of traitors then, how could he have been turned so strongly against the Chantry?"

Her friend was silent for a moment. "How? Why? Questions I cannot answer right now. I know he was at the Conclave, ostensibly as an attaché to the Templar delegation. My agents had assumed his true purpose was to watch over his sister, who was part of the Mage's delegation."

"His sister?" She mused, mind reaching for an answer she lacked the information to find. "If they had been in contact during the rebellion, could he be an agent of the General? Could all this be his ploy?"

"It would be…unusual." Came Leliana's slow reply. "The General is not in the habit of sacrificing his people, let alone the caliber of mage that were present at the Conclave. That being said, I can't imagine anyone else with the motive or anything so much as approaching the power to do it."

She felt her grip tighten on the hilt of her sword. Too many unknowns, too many factors and not nearly enough drive to find answers and solutions. Three days had passed since the Divine had been killed, three days of non-stop fighting against a ceaseless demonic horde, three days in which the breach in the heavens had continued to grow, and in those three days there had been nothing but chaotic in-fighting among the Chantry and a complete withdrawal of both Mage and Templar negotiations.

Snow crunched under her booted feet as she moved to view the increasingly neglected sea of tents surrounding the Haven township, too many were leaving for battle, too few returning, empty tents stood half collapsed as the daily accumulation of snow proved too much for their hastily assembled supports.

Their world was dying, and she did not know what to do.

"The apostate." She began. "The tall elf, he speculated yesterday that the prisoner may be able to close or contain the breach. Has he said more of it?"

There was no crunch of snow or flutter of cloth as Leliana followed in her wake. "He is certain that the magic of the breach is the very same magic burned into his hand, he seems more certain as time passes that it is possible."

"I hear a 'but' in your tone." She huffed.

"Indeed." Her friend sighed in return. "The breach is growing, and it is growing at a faster rate. The prisoner's mark becomes more volatile as it does so. If he does not wake soon, the mark will kill him before we have a chance to do anything."

"Could we force him to help us even if he wakes? What was done to the Conclave…it is the work of fanatics."

"We have no choice but to try." She replied quietly. "I have methods to make one talk, but forcing action is another story entirely. Regardless, I have my agents working on acquiring any and all information on him, a surprisingly difficult task considering he is the first-born son of a lord.

The Seeker's gaze turned once more to the snow-covered camp. "And in the meantime? Our soldiers are at their limits. The Valo-Kas were all but destroyed in the Conclave, the remaining Templars and Mages are as likely to fight each-other as the demons, and the rest of the solders are not trained for this type of battle. It is all we can do to hold the road to the great bridge."

"Guerilla tactics are not effective; my agents cannot infiltrate or sabotage our enemy. Even darkspawn were not so frustrating." Leliana said.

She quirked a brow at her light-footed friend. "A sentiment I doubt you would have ever thought was possible during the blight."

The slight smile returned to the woman's face. "At that point I considered precious little outside of our rag tag group of heroes…I wish very much that Suranna was here, or even Morrigan. The power those two could bring to bear was awe inspiring.

The Seeker scoffed. "While I agree they would help immensely, I think I have had my fill of powerful magic." She sighed. "On that note, what news is there of the rebellion?"

Leliana face hardened. "Resumed in earnest. The Templars used the Conclave negotiations to maneuver several cohorts into the hinterlands, attempting to surround the civilian mages at Redcliffe."

Her mind whirled at the information, over a thousand Templars closing in on a major Ferelden city would be disastrous. "If they can cut off the Redcliffe township then they could force a surrender very shortly. But the Ferelden lords would be incensed."

"Indeed." Leliana hummed. "Arl Teagan is furious, enough that he attempted to divert the relief force Alistair had sent to us. But the Mages have not been idle either, their forces are striking the Templars wherever they go."

"The Hinterlands are largely open, surely the templars hold the advantage there?" She pointed out.

"Perhaps in theory." Leliana conceded. "But in reality, the general himself is in play. And I'm sure I don't need to explain how ill that bodes for everyone."

"Indeed not." She replied tightly.

She definitely did not need to be told how much danger the enigmatic military mastermind behind the rebellion posed. Responsible for every victory and horror in the war thus far, he had taken a scholarly group of refugees with nary an idea as to surviving outside a Mages Circle and forged them into a army that has torn the invulnerable image of the Chantry asunder.

"And we know this for certain?" The Seeker asked.

"Arl Teagan himself sent word; he is sympathetic to the Mages, but he does not want the Hinterlands to become the next Wailing Plains."

She felt her teeth grind at the name. A dozen seekers had accompanied the four thousand strong army of Orlesian and Templar forces to what would become the most horrifying defeat the Chantry had ever suffered, what should have been a quick surrender to a vastly superior force too quickly became a massacre that history would not soon forget.

"The heavens seem set to fall on us, demons are tearing their way through the veil and we are too busy fighting ourselves to prevent it." The gnawing sense of despair she had shoved away for the passed three days threatened to break free.

"Cassandra." Came her friends soothing Orlesian tilt. "We will find a way through this. I know it."

She did not understand how her friend could have such confidence, but the steel look in those storm blue eyes was a soothing balm to her fraying will.

The breach crackled ominously overhead.

"How was your rest?" Her friend prompted.

"Poor." She admitted. "In light of the circumstances, more than I thought I'd get. But it may be a long while yet before I sleep a night through."

"You had been fighting for nearly two straight days, you need to take some care my friend." Leliana said firmly, reaching up to brush a finger below her eye. "Kohl shadow is supposed to help protect from the sun, not to hide the bags under your eyes."

She weakly slapped the intruding hand away. "I am the right hand of the divine, the sword and shield of the Chantry, we cannot afford that I appear weak at this time. And don't think I do not notice your own."

The comment brought a slight smile to her friend's face. "Ah, but I am the Divine's left hand. I'm not supposed to be seen at all."

She allowed herself a brief moment to bask in the near normalcy of their conversation before her gaze shot back to the road leading towards where the Temple once stood.

"Has anything noteworthy happened while I slept? Knight Rylen was supposed to bring word once I woke but I am told he left with the remaining Templars to reinforce Cullen?"

"Yes, Cullen is the only one worse than you when it comes to caring for himself." Leliana frowned. "Nothing of particular note has occurred, Varric took a scout party to investigate a new rift close to the main Temple road, Solas left not an hour ago to provide assistance."

"The mage left?" Cassandra questioned, frown returning to her face. "And what of the prisoner then? We need him alive."

"Solas has done all he can to contain the prisoner's mark, he claims that any further tampering would just aggravate the mark now. I asked him to find Varric, we need to know if there are more rifts along the road."

"And if he simply leaves?" She demanded.

"What is the alternative, that we force him to stay?" Leliana challenged. "You and I both know he is far stronger than he allows himself to appear, we'd need Templars to stop him and that would risk our remaining mage allies we desperately need for the healing tents."

She was right, Cassandra knew it, she was allowing her frustration to take ahold of her mind. She would die before she abandoned her duty, but she needed to remember that few shared her dedication.

"You're right. I'll set out to find them briefly, but first I have some miracles to pray for." She said Wirily, turning towards the Chantry.

"I have prayed much in the last months." Leliana said as she followed. "I know that all happens in the Maker's own time, but I can't help but wish that his timing and mine would align a little more often."

A mirthless chuckle bubbled out of her mouth without permission at her friend's words. If that wasn't the one common sentiment of all believers, then she doubted one existed at all.

Any reply she may have made was cut off as the doors of the chantry flew open to release a huffing soldier, his helmet sat crooked as his eyes searched the courtyard before falling on the two women.

"Madam Seeker, Lady Nightingale." He said between harsh breaths. "The prisoner has awoken!"

The Right Hand of the Divine turned to face the Left, feeling her countenance darken as the full weight of her duty settled in.

"Ask and ye shall receive, Leliana. Our time has come."


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a man awakens to the end of the world and is informed that it is his turn to fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey Everyone!
> 
> As far as this first introductory chapter goes, it doesn't deviate greatly from the opening mission of the game. I found in drafting it up that there was little room for change as there is in the later story lines in the game, which makes sense in hindsight.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it, it certainly enjoyed writing it! As always feedback is much appreciated, critiques about writing style and chapter structure would go a long way to helping me improve 😊

Everything hurt.

He thought he was familiar with the sensation, the muscle aches that followed swordplay as a lad, the blanketing torment of illness, the internal agony as he watched Templars take his twin sister away because of magic she had never asked for. Physical or emotional, Aodhan believed he was well familiar with pain.

He was wrong.

The agony to which he awoke was beyond any he could have ever dreamed, tearing his breath away and robbing him of the ability to let out so much as a choked whimper. Liquid fire burned along his veins, crawling up from his left to encompass his entire being, molten spikes dug deep into his mind, not content to cause mere hurt, but to forbid any thoughts not directly related to the torture he found himself in. His very soul felt alight, and he didn't know how long he could endure it.

And then, as suddenly as it had woken him, the pain was gone. For the most part. It was not necessarily an accurate description, his hand throbbed as if he had grabbed a burning coal, but the localized pain was such a relief that he could feel the beginnings of tears forming. But as the searing burn receded and his awareness grew, so grew his unease. The air was damp and musty, the dankness was apparent even as he had yet to open his eyes; his cheek felt raw, scratched by an unyielding stone surface still pressed against him. The occasional clinking of metal came to him next, and the hushed, echoing breaths he recognized as those belonging to one in full plate armor.

And most alarmingly of all, he became aware of the chafing weight around his wrists.

He shot to his feet, only to be brought to his knees as the chain attached to his manacles snapped taut. The shooting pain as his poorly padded legs hit the ground was lost as his mind temporarily lost focus, as if in protest at the sudden movement. His slowly clearing vision brought him absolutely no relief.

He was surrounded. At least a dozen men encircled him in various states of alarm, some had their swords pointed at him already, bare feet separating him from being skewered like a Nug; others had theirs weapons drawn but looked uneasily between each other as if unsure of what exactly they were supposed to be doing. Half of the men though, he recognized as veterans, bodies turned and ready, hands gripping their slightly drawn swords, the barest glimpse of steel visible in the torchlight above their scabbards.

But across every face he saw the same emotion, Anger.

The degree varied, from grief inspired rage on some faces to the colder, more controlled hate on the faces of the more heavily armored soldiers he recognized to be Templars. He felt a degree of hate coil in his own belly.

His mind struggled to find any reason for their wrath, let alone his current imprisonment. He avoided public functions, rarely drank, and even when he did venture outside the Trevelyan estates, he did so without pomp or ceremony. He was racking his brains for some explanation for how he could have offended both the Templar order and the local guard when a simple fact occurred to him; he was not in Ostwick anymore. He was in Ferelden.

And as a deluge from above, his memories crashed down on him with an almost overpowering force. The choppy seas he crossed, caring little for the ill seasonal timing of the journey. The hurried ride across the old imperial highway, careful to keep his complaints about the dog smell to himself lest he inadvertently start another war. His awe when he beheld the Frostback mountains reaching up to touch the sky. The reverence he felt when he crested the summit to see the Temple of Sacred Ashes with his own eyes, the knowledge that contained within were the last remnants of Maker's bride herself had humbled him beyond words. And above all, the sheer joy he felt at seeing his twin alive and well. Years may have passed since they had last met in person but even separated as they were on opposite sides of the delegations, the irreverent faces she pulled when nobody was looking made him feel as if they had never been apart.

Then there was more.

Flashes of movement in the dark. The scent of fear in the air. A monstrous voice. Shock. His own choking terror. A woman, shining like salvation itself. Desperation to escape. But unlike the pre-Conclave memories, these were but shadows, retracting from his every attempt to remember with clarity.

He was in the Haven dungeons, he knew that much, it explained the unfamiliar guard and the Templars, however it did nothing to enlighten him as to why he was being looked at as if he were Maferath himself. He briefly considered asking his captors but decided against it, the last thing he needed at that moment was a gauntleted fist in his face.

The slamming door to the cell block snapped him from his musings and he raised his head to find two new figures in the low light. He didn't miss the robed figure who moved to watch from the darkest corner, but it was the taller, armored figure that marched towards him that commanded his attention.

Narrow hazel eyes gazed down at him, seeming to flicker in the light, the liberally applied kohl did not quite disguise the bags under them. Her strong jaw was clenched, suppressing the same anger that was more readily apparent in the others, a jagged scar adorning her cheek made the checked emotion seem all the more sinister. Her Armored boots clacked against the stone floor as she came to a halt before him, his kneeling position giving him a clear and imposing view of the eye emblazoned on her breastplate, the sight made his blood run cold. He knew what the symbol was, before him stood a Seeker of Truth, an order that made even the most arrogant Templar sweat. Seekers were never the harbingers of gentle change. The fact one was holding him prisoner meant there was no chance he would get off lightly.

Exactly what he would be 'Getting off' of, was still a mystery.

"Think carefully before you answer." The woman started, her pronounced Nevarran accent doing nothing to soften the demand.

There was a beat in which Aodhan was unsure if he should reply, thankfully the woman seemed to read his answer from his face and squatted down at his eye level.

"Tell me why I should not just kill you now."

He felt his head rear in shock. No accusation, no questions, as if his guilt had already been determined.

"What do you mean? Why am I here?" He demanded in return, his own temper rising.

Her gauntleted hand snapped out to seize him by the collar, the pointed fingertips scratching his chest.

"The Conclave is destroyed!" She hissed, her control slipping to reveal the seething sea of fury behind her eyes. "Everyone who attended is dead! Except for you."

The news struck him like lightning, cutting to his very core. A sickly sensation pooled in his belly as if his entire being attempted to reject the information.

"What do you mean everyone is dead?" He managed weakly.

Whatever answer she seemed to be expecting, his was not it. Her narrowed gazed passed over his face critically, her grip on his collar loosening and tightening as the seconds passed.

Deliberately, she pulled he manacled hands up between their faces. "Explain this."

His gaze locked onto the green glow emanating from his left palm. The air around his hand seemed to waver as if warped by heat, the skin of his hand cracked and radiating that same green, like the fiery cracks in a burning coal.

"I can't…I don't know what it is" He stuttered, wondering how exactly he was supposed to know what this tormenting magic was.

"What do you mean you don't know." His captor ground out from clenched teeth.

"I don't know what it is, and I don't know why it's in my hand!"

"That cannot be true!" She erupted, reaching out to grasp him with both hands. "You expect me to believe that you alone survived the explosion, with the same magic burned into your hand, and that you recall nothing of it?"

"I wanted the Conclave to succeed as much as any of you!" He roared in return. "Do you think I want this…thing in my hand? It feels like it is burning me from the inside out!"

The Seeker opened her mouth to snarl out another accusation but a gloved hand on her shoulder gave her pause.

"We have other priorities Cassandra." Came a smooth Orlesian voice, the second woman having moved unseen from her corner. "We need him, time runs thin."

"What do you mean everyone is dead, I don't understand!" He demanded.

The second woman turned her gaze to lock onto his, the cold blue orbs seeming to see right into him. "What do you remember of what happened? How you arrived to be here?" She asked.

His mind turned again the broken memories that flashed on the edge of his mind. "I was…running. There was something…somethings? In the dark, and there was a woman? She was shining…"

"A woman?" His second captor interrupted; eyes boring into him.

"Yes…She was reaching for me, I think. Or maybe just waiting? It's all so… hazy".

The two women glanced at each other, eyes lingering as some form of voiceless communication passed between them. Finally, the Seeker sighed and produced a large brass key from her belt.

"Go to the forward camp Leliana, we cannot afford to lose it as a staging ground. I will take the prisoner to the rift Varric is patrolling." Cassandra said eventually, to which the hooded woman nodded and slipped out of the room soundlessly despite her heavy robes.

"Are you going to tell me what happened at all?" Aodhan pushed again.

The Seeker just stared at him as she unclasped his hands before shrugging. "It will be easier to show you."

He looked down at his liberated wrists, rubbing the chafed skin. "No rope? No chains?"

"You would not get far." She scoffed. "In any case, that mark will bind you more than chains ever could."

He couldn't deny the truth of that statement as she led him from the cell block into the more well-lit hall, the walls had a more natural appearance, as if it were a tunnel formed by natural means, or eroded by time. Every dozen or so paces they passed armored guards, most had the discipline to stay at attention, allowing only their narrowed gazes to follow him as he passed; Others were not half as subtle and glared openly, disgust and anger carved into the lines on their faces.

"I'm only half certain I'll make it out of the dungeon regardless." The words fell out of his mouth without thought.

The Seeker's gaze snapped to him, then to the guards, then back to him. "Most have decided your guilt for themselves." She admitted. "They need it, that the Divine herself came here brought so many from all walks of life. They need to believe that justice will be served."

That brought a dark chuckle out of him. "Ah, yes. Justice indeed."

"Whether this was your plan, or whether you were aware of your role or not, I do not know. But I cannot consider you unconnected to the explosion, there is too much to suggest otherwise."

Her armored hand reached out and threw open a set of doors to reveal the first familiar sight. The hall of the Haven Chantry was not as bright nor peaceful as it had been but days prior, but it was better than the oppressive darkness of the cells. Impossibly, the hate in the stares he received from the Chantry Brothers and Sisters was even more venomous than that of the guards, muttered curses following him to the main doors of the hall.

The glare of sunlight on snow blinded him as the doors to the Haven township opened. The cold hit him first, a Free-Marcher was not made for the frigid winds of the Ferelden Frostbacks, he was lucky that they hadn't removed his gambeson or he'd never make it to wherever the Seeker was dragging him. The smell hit him second, and he found he could almost taste the sour scent of fear on the breeze. When his eyes finally opened, it was to a scene from the worst demon fueled nightmares of the Chantry.

The sky above the Temple summit was torn as though struck by the claws of some vengeful god. The rend extended outwards like cracks in glass pane, a sickly green light exuding from without. Massive chunks of stone hung suspended in the air; caught in the pull of magic he doubted any understood.

And at the center of it all…his mind blanked as it demanded his attention, a roiling maelstrom of green and black twisting clouds and magic, sickly emerald lightning tore across the face of the storm. It tugged on his mind, drawing him in even across the distance, and through it all for a small moment he thought he could see a city dripping with black icho-

A rough shake tore his attention away from the sky and reality crashed down on him with an almost physical force. The ground tilted beneath his feet and it was the Seeker's grip alone that stopped him from pitching to the earth.

"We call it the Breach." She said, the words sounding as if they came through a tunnel. "A massive rift into the Fade itself, and it grows with each passing hour."

The world was coming back into focus, his hands and legs were shaking as he began to support his own weight.

"It has a similar effect on most who gaze at it too long. Although never so immediate or intense." She continued.

"An explosion…Did that?" He could barely fathom the power needed to tear reality apart.

"This one did. And unless we act, it will grow until it covers all Thedas."

Whatever she may have said next was lost as the Breach flared, the world around them bathed in green for a second. He had but a moment to wonder at what was happening before the Mark in his palm flared with the same green, as if responding to the breach, and his very soul erupted in agony. His blood boiled within him, fiery spikes drove into his mind, he clawed desperately at his arm as if by tearing the appendage off he could possibly escape the torturous pain. He was vaguely aware the snow against his face as he writhed, but it was only another burning sensation to match the one coming from within. His captor watched with the faintest stirrings of pity as his body seized and contorted.

Then, as before, the pain came to an abrupt halt, he realized he was panting, feeling as if he had attempted to run up the mountain path.

"The Mark is killing you as the Breach expands." Came the Seeker's voice, cutting through the haze. "It might be the key to stopping whatever this is, but we are running out of time."

"And you still think I did this? To myself?" He bit out.

She frowned. "As I said, intentionally or not you are involved in this somehow."

With shaky arms, he pushed himself back to his feet. "And as I said, I wanted this Conclave to succeed as much as any of you. What will you do when you string me up and find none of your problems are solved, I wonder?"

"Someone is responsible, and you are our only suspect. If you wish to change our minds, there is only one way."

"I believe it was Sister Lilian Hatch that talked about the impossibility of proving negatives." He said, following the armored woman. "A noted Chantry scholar no less, and you wish me to prove I did not do this?"

The question went unanswered as they made their way through the town, silence following them as townsfolk and foreigner alike turned to regard them.

"The faithful flocked here is their thousands, following their leaders and our Divine, so much so that Haven cannot contain them despite its growth in the last decade." A gauntleted hand waved towards a growing crowd of scowling faces. "Now their leaders are dead, the Divine is dead, and we mourn."

The gates to the town groaned as they opened, cutting her off mid-sentence. She turned to face him.

"We mourn, we are desperate, and we are lashing out. But we must be better, think beyond ourselves as the Divine did. A trial is all I can promise you."

"A cold comfort." He murmured as a group of soldiers approached, weariness etched into their faces.

"Madam Seeker." The lead soldier greeted.

She nodded in return, motioning the squad to form the escort. "You are the squad who last saw Varric and the Apostate?"

"Yes ma'am. Passed them returning from patrol on the old paths. A new rift he said." The soldier replied.

"Lead us on then and let us be wary, we cannot be sure new rifts have not opened elsewhere."

With a nod the man raised a hand, and they took their first steps outside the relative safety of the town walls. Aodhan took the opportunity to examine the men, the leader's accent, and the liberal use of furs in their gambeson indicated they were Ferelden, the quality of their equipment suggested a wealthier city, perhaps Highever Teyrnir or Denerim. They had seen battle, that much was glaringly obvious, he could see great tears in their gambeson and missing armor plates, their hands gripped their weapons tightly as they marched around himself and the Seeker, sunken eyes twitching at the slightest movement.

"Are we not heading to the Temple Mount Seeker?" He asked, finally noticing that they were not following the road he had previously used, but an older, more worn path obscured by snow.

"Eventually, should we be successful." She nodded. "But first we must test it on something smaller, some allies of ours left to scout new rifts, among them is the Mage responsible for saving your life. We will need his expertise."

The news sparked hope in him. "So, there are survivors then? I've noticed Templars around."

The seekers eyes turned to him as they passed another group of soldiers. "There were many who were not inside the Temple when it happened. The remaining Templars and Mages have been invaluable… As long as we keep them away from each other."

He couldn't contain his snort as she muttered the last comment. "My…" He hesitated. "My sister was part of the Mage delegation. Is she…"

She sighed. "I was told that was likely the reason you were at the conclave. The truth is we have no idea which mages are with us, they have largely fallen back on their rebellion tactics, covering their faces, making their own hidden camps, trading off with one another. We are only sure of the Mages who volunteered at the healing tents."

The Sky crackled ominously overhead, filling the silence before she continued.

"In either case, the Mage we seek is an apostate. I doubt you know of him if Leliana does not."

He had finally become used to the cold air when they arrived at a frozen river, an ancient bridge spanning the icy gap. The bridge was being used as a camp, a few tents set up against the cliff walls, men and women milling about nervously, shields and halberds held limply. They made a valiant attempt to stand at attention as their entourage passed along, but the weary slump in their shoulders was obvious, as was the fading hope in their eyes.

To her credit, the Seeker was aware. Offering an approving nod to any who made eye contact. It was not much but he supposed it was all she could offer at the moment.

The mark sparking in his hand was the only warning he had. The lack of pain was surprising, and he cast his eyes around, barely catching sight of the Fade touched chunk of stone before it slammed into the bridge before them.

The world went white as he flew through the air, the screams of the wounded and dying were lost in the infernal roaring filling his ears as he rolled down broken stone to land painfully on the ice below. Agonizing seconds passed as he struggled to draw breath back into his lungs, the frigid cold beneath him not helping in the slightest. It was the panicked shouts that forced him to raise his head, chunks of stone lay scattered about, the ice cracked worryingly as the few remaining soldiers struggled to rise. His eyes darted around in search of the cause of the shouting when a black, twisted arm broke through the ice to seize an unfortunate man by the leg, he could only watch as the soldier was yanked down into the icy water beneath and a nightmare made flesh emerged from the new hole.

Desiccated flesh hung from a gaunt frame, scraps of what could have once been cloth did a poor job at covering the monster that raised itself to its full height, ebony claws extended from its hands, doubling their length. The demon roared at him from a mouthless face before he found himself yanked abruptly to his feet.

"Stay behind me!" A familiar voice shouted, shield and sword raised. "Forward, and off the ice!"

She hit the demon with shocking force, crumpling it to the ice before stabbing down through its neck, but by the time she had done so another group of shades were already rising from the brackish fluid coating the ground. Of the dozen they had set out with, a bare half remained, and some of those seemed to be soldiers from the bridge instead of their original party.

"Fighting retreat!" The Seeker called. "Shield wall, others with me!"

Unarmed, Aodhan could only do his best to stay out of the way as three of their new troop locked their shields together, spears striking out at any shade who was brave enough to launch an attack. At the same time, he danced to avoid the last of his escort rallied around the Seeker as they began to cut a path along the frozen river, hoping to escape the horde that beset them.

Surrounded as they were, exhausted and on uncertain ground, it was only a matter of time before the first soldier fell. His scream was choked off as dagger like claws slashed across his face and down to tear out his throat, the Seeker lashed out with a backhand blow that took it's arm off but was quickly distracted by another two approaching.

The Shade barely seemed to register its missing arm and turned its attention towards him, beady eyes seeming to glare at his hand.

"Shit." Was all he could get out before it charged.

The demon's remaining arm came down attempting to take out his throat, only to be turned aside as he parried the clumsy strike with an armored forearm. His mind retreated into itself as he allowed over a decade of training to take over and he launched himself forward shoulder first to crash into the shade with his not inconsiderable weight. Fueled by a well of frustration, fear and anger he threw it back and to the ground, the beast's claws tearing into his gambeson but not reaching skin. With a roaring bellow he snatched the dead man's great sword from the ice, it was neither the quality nor the balance he was accustomed to, but it did not matter, he was finally armed.

A flick of his wrists sent the long blade out to knock aside another swipe before he reversed his swing and cut what passed for its head from its shoulders, the disgusting fountain of ichor that spurted was ignored as he spun to take his place at the Seeker's side as she attempted to carve a retreat for them, now alone.

A flicker of surprise and a small frown was all she had time for before they threw themselves into the fray. Her shield came up to intercept claws aimed at his momentarily exposed back, the favor soon returned when his longer blade lunged forward to impale a shade that had gotten inside her guard. A explosion of breath and a loud thud sounded from behind them as a shade dropped from the high bank of the frozen river to crush an unfortunate shield bearer, Aodhan managed to run it through, but not before it gutted another member of their dwindling group.

"Seeker!" He yelled, feeling desperation creeping in. "We need an out!"

The woman spun, shield lashing out to throw a shade into the riverbank with strength that should be beyond her. Her eyes flashed to his hand. "This may hurt, Brace yourselves!"

He lashed out with a kick, fending away an approaching demon. Before he could ask exactly what she meant, he felt it. Thunder without sound. The pressure hurt his ears. He felt his knees buckle as his hand erupted into pain.

The effect on the demons was far more pronounced, hitting them like the Maker's own fist and hurling them bodily to the ice. Their skin burned and smoked, some dissolving into mist as the pressure wave passed over them.

"Come!" The woman's voice sounded in his ear as she dragged him to his feet. "We must move!"

It was all he could do to hold onto his sword, and he was half led, half dragged along the ice, the banks too high on either side to climb yet. Blood pounded in his ears, and he felt as if he might either throw up or pass out at any moment. He had never felt a Holy Smite before, and if he had his way, he never would again.

Salvation waited for them as they rounded a bend in the river, the high banks lowering and giving way to a snow drift leading upwards. The last of their escort sprinted ahead, desperation driving him, and was thrown to the ground as a new foe tore its way into reality right before him. Long spindly arms stretched wide as the terror demon unhinged its jaws to scream at them, the sound cutting to the bone and sending shivers down his spine.

The sound was cut off as a bolt punched through the horror's skull.

"Clam it, ugly!" Shouted a voice in a more familiar Kirkwall accent.

His eye's shot upwards to find broad a shouldered dwarf grinning down at them, the largest crossbow he had ever seen in hand. With a pump of his stocky arm he sent another bolt into the chest of a shade approaching from behind.

"Seeker!" he shouted. "Up here!"

He turned back to the approaching horde of shades only to see the river explode as thick spears of ice erupted out to skewer some of the demon force and block off the rest.

"Come! The rift is here!" Another voice called out them.

Legs burning with effort, he scrambled up the snowy bank followed by the remaining members of their party, an angry Seeker, and a gasping young soldier on his last legs. A familiar crackling sounded in his ears as he crested the rise, and he could feel his marked hand crackle in response. Then it was there, seeming to float in the air above him, a tear in the fabric of reality itself, calling him in. It wasn't the hypnotic lure he felt when he first beheld the Breach, but it was still enough to demand his attention, heedless of the arcs of green energy emanating from the dark void within.

"Hurry! We haven't much time!" Came a shout from behind and he felt someone seize his arm and raise it to point at the rift.

"Pull!" The voice commanded.

He didn't know what the voice meant; all he was aware of was the same green arcs now connecting his hand to the tear. It felt wrong, like a wound; he could feel it tugging on him as if trying to pull the life from him. He roared in defiance, his hand clenching into a fist as he pulled back on it. He would not lose; this abomination of the fade would not take him.

With a resounding snap, the link between them broke. Green light exploded from the rift and swept over them; the few demons that managed to pursue them burst as the wave hit them. Soldiers patted themselves down, unsure if the energy had had any effect on them, before yelling in relief, he could see tears welling on more than one face.

He turned to face the man who had held his arm, it was an elf, taller than he had ever seen, exceeding even his own not inconsiderable height.

"What did you do?" He asked the elf, tearing himself from his impromptu examination.

The eld cocked his head with a small smile. "I did nothing." He corrected. "The credit is yours."

He turned his gaze to the now calm spark in his hand. It seemed to have been subdued by closing the rift.

"At least it's good for something." He murmured.

"Indeed." The elf nodded almost sympathetically. "Whatever magic tore open the breach also burned the mark into your hand, I theorized it may be able to close the rifts opening in the Breach's wake." He turned to look where the rift had been. "It would seem I was right."

"Meaning it may be able to close the breach?" Came the Seeker's voice, approaching from his rear.

"Possibly." He nodded to her, before turning his gaze back on Aodhan. "It would seem you hold the key to our salvation."

"Good to know!" Cheered that same Kirkwall accent, the dwarf swaggering over to look up at him. "Here I thought we'd be ass deep in demons forever."

Aodhan couldn't help but smile at the first cheery voice in what felt like days.

"Varric Tethras!" He introduced himself. "Rogue, storyteller…occasional unwelcomed tag along." He continued, throwing a wink at the Seeker at the last.

"Nice to meet you… And your crossbow." Aodhan replied, turning his gaze to the beast of a thing slung over his back.

"Ha! She beautiful isn't she." The dwarf said with his own broad smile. "Bianca and I have been through a lot together. Even before the world decided to end."

He felt his brow raise. "It has a name?"

"Of course. Don't worry, you'll get to know her in the valley."

The Seeker stepped forward, mouth open as if to object before closing again, her gaze sweeping over the tattered remains of the squad Varric had taken with him and the sole remaining soldier from their own group.

"You haven't been in the valley since yesterday seeker." The dwarf said softly. "There's no one there anymore. These guys are three days deep in battle and about to collapse, you'll need all of us if you find anything there."

The armored woman sighed and nodded, motioning for the remains of the group to follow.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions." The Elf spoke as they began to move. "I am pleased to see you still live."

Varric snorted out a laugh from ahead. "What he means is that he kept that mark from killing you as you slept."

Aodhan turned to nod at him, it was strange to speak to an elf without having to look down. "You have my thanks; I have little else to offer as it stands."

Solas merely smiled. "If we are able to close the Breach, it will be all the thanks I require."

"Cassandra." He continued, speaking to the Seekers back. "You should know that the magic involved here is unlike any I have ever seen, your prisoner is no mage, nor could I imagine any mage having such power."

A scoff came from the woman as she marched. "I can think of a few."

The Elf seemed confused for a second before understanding dawned. "The General? Perhaps the Warden Commander of Ferelden?"

A confirming grunt sounded from ahead.

"As powerful as they are, they still use magic familiar to us. This magic is both powerful and utterly new. Neither could I imagine either using it in this way."

Cassandra huffed. "It does not matter right now. We must get to the forward camp quickly."

The path into the valley was treacherous, heavy snowfall all but obscuring the stones. Fallen trees littered the mountainside, forcing their group to deviate often or climb the ancient trunks. The air was thick with smoke and anxiety, every shadow was a shade waiting to pounce, every flicker of green in the sky was a wraith readying its magic. Eventually they arrived unmolested at the valley floor, a large frozen river pooling before flowing further down into Ferelden. The largest of the Villages after Haven had been erected here to provide for the flood of pilgrims over the past decade.

Large enough to still be burning days later.

Aodhan's jaw was locked tight as they passed the scorched remains of soldiers and civilians alike, even the red and white cloth of Chantry Sisters could be seen among the prone figures. Demons left no corpses of their own, but the fallen weapons and the putrid ichor liberally spread across the ice indicated that no small amount of fighting had taken place. Makeshift barricades lay broken at the main entrance to the village, red staining the wood, ice, and earth where defenders had made their stand.

"They held the village for two whole days." Came the dwarf's voice, startling him out of his melancholy. "The Hounds of Highever were asked to hold here for as long as possible while we evacuated the pilgrim path and fortified the main bridges and roads to Haven. We expected a few hours grace, maybe the better part of a day before they retreated, damn fools held it to the last man."

The news rocked him slightly. Surely enough, the snarling mabari helms were visible on over a dozen heads. "I didn't even know they were here."

"Arrived late with the Denerim delegation. Barely made it passed here when the Conclave blew. Refused to retreat, and the Sisters refused to leave the wounded."

Aodhan crouched by one of the men, reaching out to flip over the fur mantle, ice cracking in protest.

Varric watched with interest. "You know them, do you?"

He spared the dwarf a glance and noticed that both the elf and the Seeker were also watching. "I squired in Highever, under Aedan Cousland. The hounds were still new then, I don't know this man, but Aedan hand picks each member. He's going to want blood."

"Considering what he did the last time he went on a war path; I wouldn't want to be in his way." Varric commented.

"You squired for the Couslands? How did Leliana not know that?" Cassandra murmured.

Aodhan let out a half chuckle, half scoff at that. "Yes, under the Big Mabari himself. Don't worry, I'm somewhat of a black sheep. I'm sure your spies will know all my dirty secrets soon enough."

They proceeded through the village somberly, a shared sense of reverence among them, the remains of both their squads trailing behind with heavy steps. The bodies of the fallen became more sparse, some buried deep enough in the snow that they were only found when literally stumbled on, soon they were beyond the barricades, finding less bodies who died fighting and more who died running. After so many days of death, the soldiers accompanying them didn't look twice.

"The demons haven't lingered." Aodhan observed.

"The defenders here bought us more time than we could have hoped for." The Seeker replied, walking to his side. "We gathered the survivors and those forces still arriving and fought our way up the main road, from there we cleaned the majority of the demons from the Pilgrim's Path. We had contained them at the Temple Mount itself when the rifts began to open and cut our forces off from each other."

"The demons enter our world in waves, we may yet arrive at the forward camp unimpeded." Solas remarked.

The sparking mark on Aodhan's hand disagreed with him not minutes later.

"Had to open your big mouth." Varric muttered.

The sound of battle hit them as they marched up the valley road, screams of both man and demon sounded, the resounding impact on both flesh and steel rang through the air. The scene that revealed itself as they approached was equally chaotic, a rift had opened above the camp itself, raining demonic beings down on their forces as they had tried to steal some semblance of rest. Arrows now rained down on the horde from the gatehouse of the Temple bridge, bodkin points proving as effective against demon flesh as they are against armor. A vanguard of desperate men held formation before the bridge gates with tower shields interlocked, those not in the wall taking any opportunity to thrust spears through into the enemy.

"Varric." Aodhan said in a low voice. "Do you have any Lyrium charges on your bolts?"

"Does a Nug shit underground?" The dwarf replied, cocking his crowbow.

"Solas." He continued "How many can you freeze at once?"

The Elf's gaze flickered to him before a knowing smirk settled on his face. "Enough for what I think you're planning."

"Seeker, I'll flank left, you flank right?"

The woman's hard stare made him want to squirm, but a small nod of her head indicated her agreement.

"Half with me, half with her." He directed to their remaining soldiers. "Just before we strike, Varric. Now!" He commanded, exploding into movement as his long legs carried him on an arcing path to hit the grouped-up monsters, his escort scrambling behind.

Even from the distance he was, he felt the heat being sucked from the air ahead of him, shades, terrors and fearlings managing only to turn before their movements slowed to a crawl and their flesh froze solid. He had a bare second to admire the sight before a bolt flash into the center of their frozen foes.

The result was more effective than he dared hope. The dwarf's expert eye picked out the Terror at the center of the group, the shot exploding outwards, sending fragments of steel outwards to strike icy flesh, smashing limbs to shards and outright shattering others. A moment later he struck, his large frame crashing through the disorganized ranks, a hammer to the angry Seeker's anvil, the woman lashing out with both blade and shield in a controlled frenzy that would have terrified him if the thrill of battle had not consumed him.

Galvanized, the defending vanguard surged forward. The gates opened behind them and a roar sounded from within as dozens streamed out to crash into the rapidly diminishing horde. He once again lost himself to the battle, his great sword lashing out as demons continued to tear their way into Thedas. Arrows and bolts flashed through the air, ice and fire erupted as Solas bent reality to his will, the Seeker continued her warpath through their foes, the defenders rallying around her sheer force of presence. Before long he found himself alone in the melee, accompanied only by the same young man who had survived their rushing retreat across the ice.

"Defend me!" He ordered.

Without waiting for a reply, he threw his hand outward as if to grip the rift itself, it responded instantly, the same green snaking energy lashing out towards his Mark. This time he was prepared for the tugging on his very being, his muscles clenched taut in the only way he knew how to steel himself, but it worked. The rift pulled on him, but like a fish tugging on the line, its strength began to wane. He pulled in return, feeling the resistance crumble, it reminded him of pulling fence posts from the ground as a young man, the mud sucking on the post as he tried to remove them, but eventually giving way with a pop.

The rift gave way with more than a pop, the crackling roar echoed around as he forced the tear in the face to close. The same wave of green light exploded outwards, vaporizing the Fearlings and sendings Shades and Terrors crashing to the earth where they were butchered by the defenders.

"You are quickly becoming proficient at this." Came Solas' smooth voice, pushing a waterskin gently to his lips as he hunched over. "But you have been asleep for days with only my magic to sustain you. Drink, and allow the forces to do the heavy lifting, we cannot afford that you tire."

Aodhan bit back his argument at the rebuke. The elf was right, he could feel the burning in his shoulders and arms that told him he was reaching his limits, the small cramping in his legs if he stepped wrong would be fatal at the wrong moment.

He nodded at him before allowing the Seeker to lead him through the ruined remains of the forward camp and onto the Great Temple Bridge. The broad ancient stone structure seemed to be serving as the main headquarters of their forces, crowded now with the soldiers who retreated from the rift. Small fires burned as tired hands cooked meager meals before being sent back into the fray, sunken eyes regarded him with what might have been suspicion if they had the energy for such emotion. On the far side of the bridge he could see another demonic assault taking place, the defenders unaware that they had been temporarily surrounded.

Raised voices reached them as they neared the familiar robes of Leliana, he could make out few words, 'trouble' and 'command' among them but their argument ground to a halt and they arrived.

"You're here." The hooded woman stated, making for introductions. "Chancellor Roderick, this is-"

"I know who he is." The red and white clad man interrupted. "Why you brought him here is another matter, he should be in prison awaiting execution!"

Aodhan felt his ire rise. But it seemed both of his original captors were also at their wit's end.

"You would have us give up? Wait for the sky to tear itself asunder?" The Seeker demanded stepping forward.

"I would have you do your duty! This criminal must be brought to justice!"

"Do not speak to me of duty, you glorified clerk!" A fist slammed the table to punctuate her words. "It is more important that we seal the breach than sooth wounded pride!"

The Mark on his hand flared warningly, capturing their attention. "So. Nobody is command, correct?". He asked, suddenly wary of their scrutiny.

"You Killed everyone in command!" The man shouted, incensed.

"And apparently I've fought my way back to the scene of the crime." He retorted. "In either case, I might die trying to close that." He pointed to the Breach. "Or it will kill me regardless. Since you have command of precisely nobody, I'll just get on with it."

The Chancellor's sputtering objections were lost in the general cacophony on the bridge as he marched towards the battlements on the far side. He could make out more clearly now the defensive position they had established, using the cliff face as a natural funnel to restrict the number of demons that could assault their defenses. It was being put to good use, a slow stream of demons throwing themselves at the defenders to be caught on the shield wall or on the barricades, made vulnerable to the arches above.

"Looks like Blondie's got this well enough in hand on this end." Varric's voice startled him from his examination.

"I'm gonna put a bell around your neck." Aodhan eventually said. "Lurking around down there."

Varric chuckled. "Popping out of the ether and making unwanted remarks is part of my charm. You'll get used to it."

"The mountain provides us good defense here." Cassandra's Navarran tilt sounded from behind him. "But fighting through it will cost us."

Leliana approached right after her, testing the string of an intricately crafted bow. "There are other paths to the Temple that I might have suggested, but they are circumspect, and my scouts have not returned. I fear we have little choice but to force our way through."

Aodhan's eyes swept over the men and woman not already on the front lines, they were a rag tag group wearing the heraldry of various Ferelden and Orlesian forces, with a spattering of other nations, each armed and armored according to their leader's preference.

"We have the equipment." He murmured to himself, catching the attention of the group.

At their questioning looks, he spoke up. "The Orlesian chevaliers have their tower shields; The Ferelden's have their long anti cavalry pikes. With the narrow space we can get two ranks of a shield wall formed with the long pikes thrusting through."

The Seeker gave him an appraising look. "They are not trained for it, but it may just work. Come we must find the Commander."

It didn't take long to find the man, and Aodhan was not surprised. A thick mantle of lion mane lined his large neck guard, impressively maintained plate armor shone in the waning afternoon light, and a masterly crafted helm shaped like a roaring lion adorned his head. It was obvious the man was the ranking officer.

Aodhan privately thought he was just asking for an enemy archer's attention.

"Cassandra, Leliana!" He called. "I am glad to see you here, we can hold this position well, but we cannot account for new rifts opening."

"Our chance has arrived, Cullen." The robed woman stated, and the Commander's posture stiffened, and his gaze turned to Aodhan. "This is…Aodhan Trevelyan. He has been able to seal two rifts thus far, we must make a final attempt."

Aodhan almost appreciated her tact in introducing him as if he were not in metaphorical chains.

The commander's gaze was piercing. "I hope they're right about you then. It will cost us many men to get you there."

"He did have a plan we may wish to consider." The Seeker began.

The Commanders glances at him turned pensive and appraising as she outlined his makeshift solution. His thumb rubbed at the scar adorning his lip as he considered the plan.

"Not unlike the old Imperium phalanx." He muttered. "It may be just what we need, at least until we reach more open ground. From there the remaining battle mages can use more area of effect magic without endangering our forces."

"There are Mages?" Aodhan all but demanded, drawing a curious glance from the Commander.

"Three remain with us, the others come and go as they see fit and I do not have men to spare to do anything about it." He admitted, before calling out behind him. "Rylen, assemble the Templars! We make for the Breach now!"

"Mages and Templars fighting together." Varric spoke, grinning at the Commander. "What is this? A blight?"

The blonde man sighed. "Hello to you too Varric. They work poorly together as it stands, yes. But we will need the Templars to nullify magic when the Terrors attack."

"These mages." Aodhan interrupted again. "Are any of them red of hair, tall for a woman?"

Cullen's gaze passed over him, jumping from his own red hair to the worry that must have shown on his face before understanding dawned. "No, I am sorry. The only woman I have noticed among them is Elven and dark of hair."

Aodhan felt he jaw clench involuntarily and he nodded stiffly, turning away to look down on the assembling men and women.

For all their differences in background, the soldiers lined up with the speed and discipline of professionals, he could even see the towering figures of the few Qunari Valo-Kas that remained. They listened intently as their Commander outlined the plan of action and Aodhan wondered if they had all taken stamina droughts before discarding the thought, it hardly mattered why they were suddenly energized, only that they were.

A Roar sounded as the Commander raised his sword overhead and their force Charged their way through the barricades and defenders to form ranks.

The demons smashed in their formation the not a moment after their shields had locked, grasping claws screeched against tower shields, green magic ricochet into the snow. With surprising discipline and synergy, the pikes thrust out from the shield wall, each propelled by two soldiers, the combined strength enough to completely run through anything unfortunate enough to be on the other side.

"Push!" The commander bellowed from beside him, eyes locked intently on the formation. "And push!"

The Chevaliers pushed unerringly in time with his calls. Aodhan could scarcely believe how well it was working nor the ferocity with which they fought.

"And Push!"

The command echoed again, and again the wall stepped forward into the mass of demons beyond, the near mindless monsters unable to counteract the mass of moving steel. Pikes struck out, both killing and forcing the enemy to retreat from their wall. Valo-Kas arches used their height to shoot their giant bows over the formation, picking off any that sought to skirt the pikes.

"Templars, purge!" A second voice commanded.

Aodhan's eyes scrambled to understand what was happening and only just caught sight of the green light emanating from under the second rank of the shield wall before a soundless thump echoed in the air. The effect was immediate, the green light vanished, and he saw three Terror demons thrown violently back out from the ground within the demons ranks. The Valo-Kas did not need to be told to target them.

Calls to push sounded again and again, Aodhan didn't know how the Commander could yell so much and so loudly without his voice waning. The battle passed in a blur before they broke into open ground, swordsmen fanning out to fill the ever-growing space to the sides of the shield walls.

"Mages, fire deep!" Came a new call from the Commander.

Shockwaves ripped through the air deep in the demonic ranks, throwing stone and snow into the air as fire erupted up from the ground. From the side of his vision he saw a slight grey flash in Solas' eyes before a titanic eruption of green tinged flame exploded in the center of the demons force, throwing those in the vicinity to the ground and staggering those further away,

"Charge!" Cullen did not miss the opportunity, his roar echoing through the valley, driving the soldiers to a near frenzy as the fell upon the disoriented demons, steel flashing as the demons were struck down one after another.

And with a near anticlimactic silence, it was over.

"What was that?" He asked in a low voice.

The tall elf regard him for a second, his face slightly pale. "It was costly, is what it was."

Any chance to ask more was gone as an elated Commander approached. "A very fine strategy!" He called. "Whatever else, you have saved many lives today. You have my thanks."

"I'm just glad it worked." He admitted as he allowed himself to be led towards the gates to the Temple. "They fought as if they had drilled such a maneuver for weeks."

Cullen nodded. "They are good soldiers, and they know you can seal rifts. You must seem the answer to many prayers in their eyes.

The expectation became almost a physical weight on his shoulders hearing this. "I can only hope that this works then."

"It will." The Commander stated firmly. "I have not been so sure of anything in a long time."

He had almost a minute to allow the man's faith to strengthen him before they crested the rise beyond the gates. It felt as if he had taken a Qunari strength blow to the gut, his lungs refused to take in air and his vision wavered as he saw the true extent of the Conclave explosion.

There was no snow, the heat radiating out would have melted any that attempted to form, the stone was blackened and cracked even as far out as they stood. The remains of what would have been quarters and guard houses lay charred and broken, barely any walls above waist height remained. The Temple itself was gone, a crater all that remained with the foundations and lower levels remaining, exposed to the sun for the first time since its construction.

His eyes drifted up at the jagged wall of stone the stretched outwards, as if the blast itself had been frozen in time and sealed in smoldering rock. He could scarcely conceive of how much power would be needed to wreak such destruction, to turn stone to liquid and throw it out with such ease.

"It does not get easier." The Commander said somberly.

"You've seen this already?" Aodhan struggled to get out.

"We have taken the mount half a dozen times, each time attempting to seal the rift. Templars have tried, the Apostate has tried, none have been able to do what you do. And we have been unable to hold it."

Eventually, Aodhan summoned the strength to approach the crater, sword held loosely in hand.

"Where are the demons?" he asked.

"Since one of our attempts to close it, the breach has periods of dormancy." Cullen answered, stepping gingerly. "It is both a blessing and a curse. We have time to rest between waves, but the flood of demons that pour out once it opens is almost too much to handle at one time."

"I didn't realize. Solas had mentioned-" His voice trailed off as he saw something which was decidedly not stone… or not supposed to be stone.

Cracked black and glowing with internal green light it knelt in the ash, face contorted in agony. Aodhan felt his stomach rebel as he looked on what was once a man, his skin petrified by the explosion. He lost his fight and hunched over, dry heaving as his empty stomach attempted to purge itself.

"Come, it serves no good to dwell here." A gentle voice said. Leliana's he realized.

He let himself be led further on, but he could not stop is eyes from darting from the increasing number of figures frozen in their deaths, fear and pain etched into their now eternal expressions.

"Here is where you emerged from the Fade." Cassandra's voice drifted to him as if under water. "You fell to the earth, and the soldiers saw a woman behind you…"

The sound of his sword falling to the ash covered stone interrupted her and they realized he was not listening. His hands shook, increasingly violent as his pale face stared intently ahead. Uncertain footsteps carried him onward as they followed behind. He didn't notice, his attention was captured by a stony figure standing at the entrance to the Temple basement.

Unlike the others, this figure was facing where the blast would have happened. The petrified robes hung loose, appearing a grotesque imitation of a sculpture, but the form was unmistakably a woman. She was tall, not far off Aodhan's own stature, possessing broader shoulders that would single her out from other mages, but it was the staff in her hand that demanded his attention. He had seen it before; he had seen it recently. All too recently in his mind.

A sob tore its way from him as he came face to face with the figure, all hope dashed to the stony earth. Tears obscured his vision as a shaking hand reached out to cup the figures cheek, only to snatch it back as stony ash flaked away at his touch.

"Evelyn." He whispered.

His knees buckled and he collapsed to his knees, headless of the shooting pain or his protesting muscles. His shoulders shuddered as he attempted to control his breathing, his eyes screwed shut in an attempt to forestall the agony making itself known. He would gladly endure a hundred years of the Mark's torment to change what stood before him.

"I am so sorry." Surprisingly, it was the Seeker herself beside him, her voice sounding very different with the addition of sympathy. "We have lost so much, but we must press onward."

Her words were like a spark to dry tinder, and the fire within that was his namesake burned forth like an inferno.

"You." He bit out through clenched teeth, the Seeker stepping back from the near blind rage evident on his face. "I will close this Breach. And you will help me find who did this, and I will cut them to pieces, slowly."

The woman nodded, an unreadable expression on her face and handed him his sword. "You have my word."

Without waiting for more, he swept past her and the surrounding soldiers. His very being screamed at him for violence, demanding blood for blood taken and he embraced it, anything to drown the pain that threatened to sweep him away.

He was vaguely aware at Varric's panicked voice as they passed chunks of glowing red crystal, he was aware that Solas had moved to his side, matching his long strides. It was only when the air began to crackle did he stop. The air around them seemed to flicker, ghostly projections of what once was phased in and out.

"Hold the sacrifice still." A deep, almost inhuman voice sounded. And for a second, a dark figure stood towering in above them.

"What's going on?" Cassandra demanded. "Who was that?"

"At a guess, the one responsible for the explosion." Solas said.

The air flickered again, and a regally dress woman hung suspended in the air, her face desperate. "Help me!"

"Most holy!" came the simultaneous cries of Cassandra and Leliana.

Once more ghostly images faded into sight, ethereal doors were thrown open as Aodhan's image entered the room only to fall back a step at whatever he was seeing, shock etched into his face. "By the sacred flame, what are you?" He whispered.

Seconds passed before Cassandra's hand griped his shoulder and spun him around. "You were there! What did you see? Who assaulted the Most Holy?" Her question spilled out.

He removed her arm with a firm grip. "If I remembered what happened, I would tell you. Whoever that voice belongs to will die." That seemed to mollify her somewhat and she stepped back, casting a glance at Leliana.

"Time grows short." Solas stated. "We must attempt now."

Aodhan's eyes drifted up to the Breach in the sky above. "How is this going to work? I'm tall, but not that tall."

The mage turned his staff to point at green crystalline mass shifting in the air. "My previous attempt to close the breach caused it to undergo periods of dormancy. If you open it now, you will be able to permanently close it, and with it, the Breach."

Aodhan's jaw tensed. "More demons?" He asked.

The Elf only nodded.

The Soldiers with them sensed what was to come and took position, archers seeking high ground, chevaliers taking the front line, each joining with a small group of Ferelden pikemen. With a nod at the Commander, Aodhan stretched out his hand and pulled.

The rift came open with a snap, requiring little force, tearing open reality, and stretching from its place in the air right down to the ground, far larger than any rift he had seen. And from within they emerged, a trickle becoming a flood as nightmare after horrifying nightmare surged out towards them. With no proper space to control with a shield wall, the defenders pushed forward in return, the battle chant of the Exalted March audible even over the crash of battle.

With a bellow of his own, Aodhan threw himself into the fray. His sword lashed out, green ichor spraying through the air, his boot lashed out to give him the distance he needed to run a shade through. For how long the battle raged he did not know, his arms burned as he swung his great sword in arcs, seeking to control the space around him and allow nearby Chevaliers to rally around him.

Whatever he was planning fled from his mind as a deep demonic chuckle echoes through the battle. His swing paused mid stroke as a figure from the worst Chantry stories made its way through the rift. Thick purple scales adorned a face that bore too many eyes, enormous, muscled shoulders tapered only slightly to giant clawed hands. Bony protrusions jutted from every joint, lightning crackling in the air with every colossal step it took.

"Pride Demon!" Shouted a voice over the fray.

It was too late for those closest to the rift, a swipe of its giant claws tore through the ranks, sundering armor and shields, spraying red through the air. Arrows pelted the beast but the worst they seemed to do was remain trapped in its thick hide. A blast of magic struck it from behind, an elven mage stared down with narrowed eyes as it stumbled slightly, her eyes widened before a wave of crackling energy raged towards her in reply throwing her into the stone with a sickening crack.

Ice exploded from the ground, momentarily trapping its limbs and Aodhan took his chance, racing forward to swing at the thinner hide behind the knee, his blade hacking deep into the limb. Whatever joy he may have felt at his success was quickly gone as the giant monstrosity spun out of the ice binding it, the giant hand closing around him with crushing pressure. A collection of beady green eyes regarded him as he was raised up to eye level.

A shout sounded from below and he caught a glimpse of steel as Cassandra charged, shield first, into the inside of the Demon's knee. The world tilted around him, the demon falling to a knee under the impressive power of the Seeker's charge, the pressure threatening to break his ribs abated as the Pride struggle for balance.

From his position suspended in the air he could see many things, the desperation on the faces of the archers as their arrows bounced from the scaled hide of the beast holding him, he could see their forces on the ground struggling to contain the tide of demons that had become emboldened by the presence of the Pride. He could see Cullen looking around wildly for any advantage he could salvage for his men.

And he could see leliana cast aside her bow as sprint towards the edge of the platform she had been firing from, her face a mask of grim determination. Her rapid strides carried her forward, her arms reached behind her to produce two long daggers somehow concealed in her robes. With grace that should not have been possible for someone in a chainmail robe, she leaped from the edge, arms outstretched, chest thrust out, before tucking into herself to land on the pride demons head, sinking her twin daggers deep into its eyes. The demon threw its head back, roaring in pain, leliana using the movement to leap clear.

Suddenly, he was free. Dropped painfully to the ground, the protesting joints in his knees adding to the debt that he would pay should he come out of this alive. The injury done to the beast breathed new life into the defenders, granting them a second wind. The battle began in earnest, demons and defenders falling alike falling to the ichor and blood-stained stone.

Sword lost, Aodhan seized a broken pike from the stone, it had broken halfway up the shaft, but it was better than nothing. He eyed the pride demon as it raised itself back to its feet, the twin daggers still jutting from its face, the other eyes narrowed in inhuman rage. He watched it raising its arms to the sky, and instinct took over.

"Barriers! Barriers to everyone!" He shouted desperately.

The answering flashes of blue came not a moment too soon as the Pride's hands slammed to the earth crushing a group of soldiers underneath, lightning exploded around the remains of the temple, the smell of ozone filled the air and for a second, all he could see was white.

He charged forward regardless.

His vision cleared slowly, eyes blinking furiously as if working to clear the after images from his sight. He could make out the shapes of his companions struggling to rise, their proximity to the lightning causing them to take the brunt of the attack. His breath came in painful gasps as he raced towards the demon who had yet to recover from the energy expenditure of his own attack, his legs bunched as he leapt up onto its outstretched hand, using it as a ramp towards its head. Its head reared up, sensing the smaller being, its mouth opened in a defiant roar and sparks began to crackle around it once more.

But it was all the opening he needed, the pink flesh inside the mouth was like a beacon to his watering vision, the remaining length of the pike was firm in his grip and he charge on putting every last pound of weight into thrust as he felt it strike home. A choked, gurgling roar came from the beast as the pike plunged through its unarmored palate and into its skull, the roar turned to a whistle as its limbs lost the strength to support themselves.

But his job wasn't done, this was but one pride demon. If he didn't act soon, there would be more, and they were in no shape to fight another. He struggled to take a knee, turning his still watery eyes to the rift. The mark in his hand sparked to life as if obeying his thoughts, the rift itself began to shoot out threads of energy as if in anticipation of what was to come. He thrust out his hand, the energies of the fade immediately binding to him in return, the pull was orders of magnitude stronger the any rift he felt before.

His world darkened around him

One hand shot down to steady himself midfall. He poured every last ounce of effort he had into clenching his fist.

A roar in his ears obscured any other sound.

Every last muscle clenched in his body, straining as if he were back in Highever with Aedan overseeing his training.

His mouth opened, admitting his own defiant shout.

His fist clenched to a painful degree, the metal plates of his gauntlet digging into flesh. His shoulder and pain strained as he pulled his fist down with everything including his body weight.

Thunder roared over the Frostbacks. Green light flared bright enough to eclipse the sun itself. The shockwave knocked everyone standing back to the ground. The remaining demons were torn apart, their essence swept away by the wind.

And Aodhan felt none of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I felt like I should clarify here some aspects of Thedosian history in this story.
> 
> Although Surana is the Hero of Ferelden, the other characters did exist and have their own stories, many of these will appear and  
>  impact the progression of this Fic. Here are two of the bigger players.
> 
> Aedan Cousland (The Hound of Highever, The Big Mabari)
> 
> Survived Highever and formed a rebellion responsible for distracting Loghain and Howe's attention away from the Warden's work, ultimately responsible for the ease with which the Hero and his companions were able to travel and the reason Loghain resorted to foreign assassins. Responsible for the first sacking of Amaranthine, his drive for revenge led to a lack of soldiers to defend many towns and cities that were in turn decimated by the blight. He is considered one of Ferelden's most polarizing figures.
> 
> Sereda Aeducan (The Queen Beyond the Mount)
> 
> After Bhelen's betrayal, she was exiled to the deep roads. But even an exiled queen had allies. She was responsible for fomenting a rebellion in the lower Thaigs that make up Orzammar (Yes, another deviation), the rebellion was one of the main reasons Bhelen's rule was contested as it was assumed to be a symptom of his poor leadership. Eventually she led a large number of these dwarves into the deep roads and seized the Ortan Thaig while the blight drew the darkspawn away to the surface. By running their supply lines above ground via surface merchants, they avoid the logistical problems that have plagued all other dwarven expansion attempts.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N
> 
> And there we go, a taste of what is soon to come. Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I look forward to expanding on the rebellion, the Templar order and the far reaching plans of the Elder One.


End file.
